Not edited.

Forks is a small town found in the corner tucked under Washington. Closer to Seattle, but found in the same area.

I returned to the rainy town on the Twenty first of April, in support of my father when he lost his then-wife, Sue Clearwater.

She was a fair woman with a straight mind and sensible ambitions. She aimed to raised the kids under her roof in the best intentions possible. I was twelve when my dad remarried, and I stayed with them right up until I was seventeen when it was decided that by staying with my birth mother, Renee, I would make a better impression in my statement for college application.

The dynamics in the family became too complicated for me to define the moment the news about my move across the country were out. My step siblings and I used to be close- before my move across the country.

I used to understand Sue and Charlie- before my move across the country.

But since then everything were blurred and it became too much to handle, and so, I left it and left the town without second thoughts.

Sue's passing made me realise that Charlie needed me when he called to tell me that Friday evening when I got home from work.

I flew out of California the Tuesday after when I gave a piece of my mind to my good-for-nothing manager and quickly up rooted myself from that place and landed back in that town that constantly rained.

I remember my widowed father standing there on the waiting lobby in Sea-Tac Airport, looking haunted as he patiently waited for my steps to bring me to him. He loved his wife, no doubt and it almost killed him when he became widowed.

It was tragic to be told that Sue died of drug overdose. And as a police chief, Charlie couldn't prevent it from happening.

Sue and her children came from the reservation in the Quileute lands where the descendants succeeded a pure line of Indian blood. Though most of them were not the stereotypical Indians, but some of them, including Sue did the traditional practice of drug taking as a ritual of some sort.

Charlie was aware of it, but as her husband there was only so much he could do before their marriage cracked into pieces.

The reason they sent me to California was just that.

I used to know a boy from the reserve and he introduced me to those rituals. Soon I was part of that world and my grades started to drop due to the side effects and I became an unworthy person to the world.

They sent me away when they knew that if they didn't I wouldn't ever get out of it. All of my future we once saw in me was dropping away from me little by little as I agreed with all those pills I took back in those days.

Renee, as scattered brain as she is, was horrified when she learned what I got myself into. She agreed with both Charlie and Sue that I needed to move for my own good.

I tried to reason and used both Seth and Leah as a reason. Sue shockingly told me that Leah and Seth belonged there, it was their home and part of what they are.

Nothing hurt more than that moment, learning that she never saw me no more than an outsider.

After all those years that she nurtured me, she still saw me as an outsider. If she really saw me as a family member, she would have accepted what I've become to. And accepted me into part of her world.

Nothing was more piercing the moment I came home that day when she told me that it was for my own good whilst she was doing stir fry in the pan. That smell has now come to serve as a reminder and I never tasted that stir fry that night. I stormed out of the house and headed to the reserve taking my last high with him.

The boy, Jacob treated me tenderly that night.

I remember his hands on me, touching me. The taste of his mouth as he kissed me. The pills and pot he handed me as we laughed together. And the way his cock ripped into my virgin walls, giving me a trip to the lands of the fallens.

I relished his moans and his groans. The way he handled me and shivered at the remembrance of the bruises I found the day after.

The stereotype I've mentioned in this little story is not a representation of my opinions, but something I've read before and made its way to the story. Please don't be offended as this is a work of fiction and is not made up to offend anyone. Figments of imagination is what makes up literature.

This is short OS which suddenly popped to the mind.